Until his visit Mariana had pictured
Solomin to herself as quite different. At first
sight he had struck her as undefined, characterless.
She had seen many such fair, lean, sinewy men in her
day, but the more she watched him, the longer she
listened to him, the stronger grew her feeling of
confidence in him for it was confidence
he inspired her with. This calm, not exactly
clumsy, but heavy man, was not only incapable of lying
or bragging, but one could rely on him as on a stone
wall. He would not betray one; more than that,
he would understand and help one. It seemed to
Mariana that he aroused such a feeling, not only in
herself alone, but in everyone present. The things
he spoke about had no particular interest for her.
She attached very little significance to all this
talk about factories and merchants, but the way in
which he spoke, the manner in which he looked round
and smiled, pleased her immensely.

A straightforward man... at any rate!
this was what appealed to her. It is a well-known
fact, though not very easy to understand, that Russians
are the greatest liars on the face of the earth, yet
there is nothing they respect more than truth, nothing
they sympathise with more. And then Solomin,
in Mariana’s eyes, was surrounded by a particular
halo, as a man who had been recommended by Vassily
Nikolaevitch himself. During dinner she had exchanged
glances with Nejdanov several times on his account,
and in the end found herself involuntarily comparing
the two, not to Nejdanov’s advantage. Nejdanov’s
face was, it is true, handsomer and pleasanter to
look at than Solomin’s, but the very face expressed
a medley of troubled sensations: embarrassment,
annoyance, impatience, and even dejection.

He seemed to be sitting on hot coals;
tried to speak, but did not, and laughed nervously.
Solomin, on the other hand, seemed a little bored,
but looked quite at home and utterly independent of
what was going on around him. “We must
certainly ask advice of this man,” Mariana thought,
“he is sure to tell us something useful.”
It was she who had sent Nejdanov to him after dinner.

The evening went very slowly; fortunately
dinner was not over until late and not very long remained
before bedtime. Kollomietzev was sulky and said
nothing.

“What is the matter with you?”
Madame Sipiagina asked half-jestingly. “Have
you lost anything?”

“Yes, I have,” Kollomietzev
replied. “There is a story about a certain
officer in the lifeguards who was very much grieved
that his soldiers had lost a sock of his. ‘Find
me my sock!’ he would say to them, and I say,
find me the word ‘sir!’ The word ‘sir’
is lost, and with it every sense of respect towards
rank!”

Madame Sipiagina informed Kollomietzev
that she would not help him in the search.

Emboldened by the success of his speech
at dinner, Sipiagin delivered two others, in which
he let fly various statesmanlike reflections about
indispensable measures and various words desmots not so much witty as weighty,
which he had especially prepared for St. Petersburg.
He even repeated one of these words, saying beforehand,
“If you will allow the expression.”
Above all, he declared that a certain minister had
an “idle, unconcentrated mind,” and was
given “to dreaming.” And not forgetting
that one of his listener’s was a man of the people,
he lost no opportunity in trying to show that he too
was a Russian through and through, and steeped in
the very root of the national life! For instance,
to Kollomietzev’s remark that the rain might
interfere with the haymaking, he replied, “If
the hay is black, then the buckwheat will be white;”
then he made use of various proverbs like: “A
store without a master is an orphan,” “Look
before you leap,” “When there’s bread
then there’s economy,” “If the birch
leaves are as big as farthings by St. Yegor’s
day, the dough can be put into tubs by the feast of
Our Lady of Kazan.” He sometimes went wrong,
however, and would get his proverbs very much mixed;
but the society in which these little slips occurred
did not even suspect that nôtre bon Russe had
made a mistake, and, thanks to Prince Kovrishkin,
it had got used to such little blunders. Sipiagin
pronounced all these proverbs in a peculiarly powerful,
gruff voice d’unevoixrustique. Similar sayings let loose at the
proper time and place in St. Petersburg would cause
influential high-society ladies to exclaim, “Commeil connait bienlesmoeursdenôtre people!” and great statesmen would
add, “Lesmoeursetlesbesoins!”

Valentina Mihailovna fussed about
Solomin as much as she could, but her failure to arouse
him disheartened her. On passing Kollomietzev
she said involuntarily, in an undertone: “MonDieu, queje me sens fatiguee!”
to which he replied with an ironical bow: “Tu
l’as voulu, George Daudin!”

At last, after the usual outburst
of politeness and amiability, which appears on the
faces of a bored assembly on the point of breaking
up, after sudden handshakings and friendly smiles,
the weary guests and weary hosts separated.

Solomin, who had been given almost
the best bedroom on the second floor, with English
toilette accessories and a bathroom attached, went
in to Nejdanov.

The latter began by thanking him heartily
for having agreed to stay.

“I know it’s a sacrifice on your part ”

“Not at all,” Solomin
said hastily. “There was no sort of sacrifice
required. Besides I couldn’t refuse you.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ve taken a great liking to
you.”

Nejdanov was surprised and glad at
the same time, while Solomin pressed his hand.
Then he seated himself astride on a chair, lighted
a cigar, and leaning both his elbows against the back,
began:

“Now tell me what’s the matter.”

Nejdanov also seated himself astride
on a chair in front of Solomin, but did not light
a cigar.

“So you want to know what’s
the matter... The fact is, I want to run away
from here.”

“Am I to understand that you
want to leave this house? As far as I can see
there is nothing to prevent you.

“Not leave it, but run away from it.”

“Why? Do they want to detain
you? Perhaps you’ve taken some money in
advance... If so, you’ve only to say the
word and I should be delighted ”

“I’m afraid you don’t
understand me, my dear Solomin. I said run away
and not leave, because I’m not going away alone.”

Solomin raised his head.

“With whom then?”

“With the girl you’ve seen here today.”

“With her! She has a very
nice face. Are you in love with one another?
Or have you simply decided to go away together because
you don’t like being here?”

“We love each other.”

“Ah!” Solomin was silent
for a while. “Is she related to the people
here?”

“Yes. But she fully shares
our convictions and is prepared for anything.”

Solomin smiled.

“And you, Nejdanov, are you prepared?”

Nejdanov frowned slightly.

“Why ask? You will see when the time comes.”

“I do not doubt you, Nejdanov.
I only asked because it seemed to me that besides
yourself nobody else was prepared.”

“And Markelov?”

“Why, of course, Markelov! But then, he
was born prepared.”

At this moment someone knocked at
the door gently, but hastily, and opened it without
waiting for an answer. It was Mariana. She
immediately came up to Solomin.

“I feel sure,” she began,
“that you are not surprised at seeing me here
at this time of night. He” (Mariana pointed
to Nejdanov) “has no doubt told you everything.
Give me your hand, please, and believe me an honest
girl is standing before you.”

“I am convinced of that,” Solomin said
seriously.

He had risen from his chair as soon
as Mariana had appeared. “I had already
noticed you at table and was struck by the frank expression
of your eyes. Nejdanov told me about your intentions.
But may I ask why you want to run away.”

“What a question! The cause
with which I am fully in sympathy... don’t be
surprised. Nejdanov has kept nothing from me...
The great work is about to begin... and am I to remain
in this house, where everything is deceit and falsehood?
People I love will be exposed to danger, and I ”

Solomin stopped her by a wave of the hand.

“Calm yourself. Sit down,
please, and you sit down too, Nejdanov. Let us
all sit down. Listen to me! If you have no
other reason than the one you have mentioned, then
there’s no need for you to run away as yet.
The work will not begin so soon as you seem to anticipate.
A little more prudent consideration is needed in this
matter. It’s no good plunging in too soon,
believe me.”

Mariana sat down and wrapped herself
up in a large plaid, which she had thrown over her
shoulders.

“But I can’t stay here
any longer! I am being insulted by everybody.
Only today that idiot Anna Zaharovna said before Kolia,
alluding to my father, that a bad tree does not bring
forth good fruit! Kolia was even surprised, and
asked what it meant. Not to speak of Valentina
Mihailovna!”

Solomin stopped her again, this time with a smile.

Mariana felt that he was laughing
at her a little, but this smile could not have offended
any one.

“But, my dear lady, I don’t
know who Anna Zaharovna is, nor what tree you are
talking about. A foolish woman says some foolish
things to you and you can’t endure it!
How will you live in that case? The whole world
is composed of fools. Your reason is not good
enough. Have you any other?”

“I am convinced,” Nejdanov
interposed in a hollow voice, “that Mr. Sipiagin
will turn me out of the house tomorrow of his own accord.
Someone must have told him. He treats me... in
the most contemptuous manner.”

Solomin turned to Nejdanov.

“If that’s the case, then why run away?”

Nejdanov did not know what to say.

“But I’ve already told you ,”
he began.

“He said that,” Mariana put in, “because
I am going with him.”

Solomin looked at her and shook his head good-naturedly.

“In that case, my dear lady,
I say again, that if you want to leave here because
you think the revolution is about to break out ”

“That was precisely why we asked
you to come,” Mariana interrupted him; “we
wanted to find out exactly how matters stood.”

“If that’s your reason
for going,” Solomin continued, “I repeat
once more, you can stay at home for some time to come
yet, but if you want to run away because you love
each other and can’t be united otherwise, then ”

“Well? What then?”

“Then I must first congratulate
you and, if need be, give you all the help in my power.
I may say, my dear lady, that I took a liking to you
both at first sight and love you as brother and sister.”

Mariana and Nejdanov both went up
to him on the right and left and each clasped a hand.

“Only tell us what to do,”
Mariana implored. “Supposing the revolution
is still far off, there must be preparatory work to
be done, a thing impossible in this house, in the
midst of these surroundings. We should so gladly
go together... Show us what we can do; tell us
where to go... Send us anywhere you like!
You will send us, won’t you?”

“Where to?

“To the people.... Where can one go if
not among the people?”

“Into the forest,” Nejdanov thought, calling
to mind Paklin’s words.

Solomin looked intently at Mariana.

“Do you want to know the people?”

“Yes; that is, we not only want
to get to know them, but we want to work... to toil
for them.”

“Very well. I promise you
that you shall get to know them. I will give
you the opportunity of doing as you wish. And
you, Nejdanov, are you ready to go for her... and
for them?”

“Of course I am,” he said
hastily. “Juggernaut,” another word
of Paklin’s, flashed across his mind. “Here
it comes thundering along, the huge chariot...
I can hear the crash and rumble of its wheels.”

“Very well,” Solomin repeated
pensively. “But when do you want to go
away?”

“But where do you want to go
to?” Solomin asked again, lowering his voice.

“We don’t know,” Mariana replied.

Solomin glanced at Nejdanov, but the latter merely
shook his head.

Solomin stretched out his hand and carefully snuffed
the candle.

“I tell you what, my children,”
he said at last, “come to me at the factory.
It’s not beautiful there, but safe, at any rate.
I will hide you. I have a little spare room there.
Nobody will find you. If only you get there,
we won’t give you up. You might think that
there are far too many people about, but that’s
one of its good points. Where there is a crowd
it’s easy to hide. Will you come? Will
you?”

“How can we thank you enough!”
Nejdanov exclaimed, whilst Mariana, who was at first
a little taken aback by the idea of the factory, added
quickly:

“Of course, of course!
How good of you! But you won’t leave us
there long, will you? You will send us on, won’t
you?”

“That will depend entirely on
yourselves... If you should want to get married
that could also be arranged at the factory. I
have a neighbour there close by a cousin
of mine, a priest, and very friendly. He would
marry you with the greatest of pleasure.”

Mariana smiled to herself, while Nejdanov
again pressed Solomin’s hand.

“But I say, won’t your
employer, the owner of the factory, be annoyed about
it. Won’t he make it unpleasant for you?”
he asked after a pause.

Solomin looked askance at Nejdanov.

“Oh, don’t bother about
me! It’s quite unnecessary. So long
as things at the factory go on all right it’s
all the same to my employer. You need neither
of you fear the least unpleasantness. And you
need not be afraid of the workpeople either.
Only let me know what time to expect you.”

Nejdanov and Mariana exchanged glances.

“The day after tomorrow, early
in the morning, or the day after that. We can’t
wait any longer. As likely as not they’ll
tell me to go tomorrow.”

“Well then,” Solomin said,
rising from his chair. “I’ll wait
for you every morning. I won’t leave the
place for the rest of the week. Every precaution
will be taken.”

Mariana drew near to him (she was
on her way to the door). “Goodbye, my dear
kind Vassily Fedotitch... that is your name, isn’t
it?”

“That’s right.”

“Goodbye till we meet again. And thank
you so much!”

“Goodbye, good night!”

“Goodbye, Nejdanov; till tomorrow,” she
added, and went out quickly.

The young men remained for some time motionless, and
both were silent.

“Nejdanov...” Solomin
began at last, and stopped. “Nejdanov...”
he began a second time, “tell me about this
girl... tell me everything you can. What has
her life been until now? Who is she? Why
is she here?”

Nejdanov told Solomin briefly what
he knew about her. “Nejdanov,” he
said at last, “you must take great care of her,
because... if... anything... were to happen, you would
be very much to blame. Goodbye.”

He went out, while Nejdanov stood
still for a time in the middle of the room, and muttering,
“Oh dear! It’s better not to think!”
threw himself face downwards on the bed.

When Mariana returned to her room
she found a note on the table containing the following:

“I am sorry for you. You
are ruining yourself. Think what you are doing.
Into what abysses are you throwing yourself with your
eyes shut. For whom and for what? V.”

There was a peculiarly fine fresh
scent in the room; evidently Valentina Mihailovna
had only just left it. Mariana took a pen and
wrote underneath: “You need not be sorry
for me. God knows which of us two is more in
need of pity. I only know that I wouldn’t
like to be in your place for worlds. M.”
She put the note on the table, not doubting that it
would fall into Valentina Mihailovna’s hand.

On the following morning, Solomin,
after seeing Nejdanov and definitely declining to
undertake the management of Sipiagin’s factory,
set out for home. He mused all the way home,
a thing that rarely occurred with him; the motion
of the carriage usually had a drowsy effect on him.
He thought of Mariana and of Nejdanov; it seemed to
him that if he had been in love he, Solomin he
would have had quite a different air, would have looked
and spoken differently. “But,” he
thought, “such a thing has never happened to
me, so I can’t tell what sort of an air I would
have.” He recalled an Irish girl whom he
had once seen in a shop behind a counter; recalled
her wonderful black hair, blue eyes, and thick lashes,
and how she had looked at him with a sad, wistful expression,
and how he had paced up and down the street before
her window for a long time, how excited he had been,
and had kept asking himself if he should try and get
to know her. He was in London at the time, where
he had been sent by his employer with a sum of money
to make various purchases. He very nearly decided
to remain in London and send back the money, so strong
was the impression produced on him by the beautiful
Polly. (He had got to know her name, one of the other
girls had called her by it.) He had mastered himself,
however, and went back to his employer. Polly
was more beautiful than Mariana, but Mariana had the
same sad, wistful expression in her eyes... and Mariana
was a Russian.

“But what am I doing?”
Solomin exclaimed in an undertone, “bothering
about other men’s brides!” and he shook
back the collar of his coat, as if he wanted to shake
off all superfluous thoughts. Just then he drove
up to the factory and caught sight of the faithful
Pavel in the doorway of his little dwelling.

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